Dynamic Duo
by ParzivalHallows
Summary: Bruce Wayne didn't adopt Dick Grayson, because Slade got to him first. Now a huge threat in Gotham City, will Batman and Robin become who they were meant to be for each other, or is Slade's grip on Robin too tight? Includes the Joker, Black Mask, Riddler, Poison Ivy, Killer Frost, Scarecrow, Speedy, Green Arrow, H.I.V.E. Five and Cinderblock.
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer (for whole story): I do not own anything DC or related to DC comics. No OC's in this story, so I don't have claim for them either._

Chapter Title: Prologue

* * *

"You look tired, Master Richard," said an elderly man with snow white hair and a snow white mustache to match. He was wearing a butler outfit, and was giving a teenage boy a barely-concealed worried glance.

"I told you not to call me that while I'm in costume, Wintergreen," the teenage boy said curtly in answer. Wintergreen bowed, "As you wish… Robin."

Robin nodded his head in acceptance of Wintergreen's apology and stalked through the house. He was planning on going to his room, getting out of his armor, and having a nice sleep for once. He was just about to reach his room when a voice from behind him spoke. "Robin, pack your bags, we're leaving."

Robin stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. Slade Wilson was wearing his mask, as was Robin, and had a few bags packed next to him. The sight would have been amusing to anyone other than Robin, who learned not to laugh at Slade at an early age. "Why are we leaving, Master?" The words slipped from his tongue so easily, he had no qualms in calling Slade 'Master'. Wintergreen did it all the time, so there really wasn't harm, right?

"We're going to Gotham City."

Robin caught himself just before his mouth dropped open. "Gotham City? I thought we were going to Jump City?"

"Change of plans. Good thing you're already in your costume, since we're leaving straight away. Now be quick, bring only what you need to survive."

To most people, that would include rations of food, water, clothes, and a sleeping bag maybe - but to Slade and Robin, it meant the machete that Robin kept in his dresser, spikes, blades, Robin's bo-staff, and enough armor to last a lifetime. "Quickly now."

Robin gave him a curt nod and raced off into his bedroom. It wasn't much – just a normal everyday bedroom from the looks of it. Blue wallpaper, tan carpet, a small but comfortable looking bed in the corner, a lamp, a dresser with a wardrobe next to it…

Robin walked over to the wardrobe and yanked open the door, his hand automatically catching the bo-staff that fell out of it. The inside of the wardrobe looked like a battle station. Blades and spikes lined the walls, three collapsible bo-staffs were fit snuggly between them. A samurai sword lay down on the bottom of the wardrobe. In the middle was a whole section dedicated to his costume. As Slade had said, Robin was already wearing his costume, but there were extensions that needed to be put on it if he was traveling light like Slade had planned.

He grabbed two spikes off the walls carefully and placed each one in the heel of his boots, where a little slot was waiting for them. He opened a back section of the wardrobe where even more weapons lingered. He grabbed his dart shooter and connected it to the armor on his right arm. Then he placed the wrist-band blades on his wrist armor, watching as they slowly slid into place. Looking at him now, you would never be able to tell they were there.

He had more defenses than that though. He grabbed his metal utility belt and put it on, feeling more secure with the weapons he knew were in there. Disc grenades, grappling hook, more spikes for his boots, gas and smoke pellets, ice bombs, fire explosives and of course, multiple lock picks. Then, there was the best weapon of all… he clicked a small, unnoticeable button on the inside of the belt, and smirked as his body became invisible. Newly designed, Slade had come up with the idea after Robin almost got caught on camera stealing something for him. The invisibility would only last a few seconds, but could be used numerous times to confuse and surprise opponents. He closed the wardrobe in favor of the dresser. He pulled out a few spare costumes and civilian clothes (he doubted he'd end up using them, though) which were hiding the machete underneath. It wasn't too large, but it wasn't too small either. He had to string it to his back if he wanted to wear it at all times, but luckily for him, he could fit it in the duffle bag he was going to bring.

"Robin, now!"

Robin smirked as he threw the clothes and weapons into the black duffle, trying to imagine himself in Gotham City. He'd never been there before, despite his ultimate wish of wanting to go there someday. The crime rate was unbelievable – he could probably rob a few places and nobody would even notice… or care. The only downside to Gotham City, however, is Batman. The Dark Knight. The city's protector. Jump would be easier to take control over, seeing as it had no superhero guarding it, but Gotham would be a thrill. He almost hoped he'd get the chance to fight the Dark Knight – he had heard a lot about him, and wanted to see how he battled.

Moments later Slade and Robin were at the door, Robin turning to Wintergreen. "Aren't you coming?"

"Oh no, dear boy, I think not. Not this time. Master Slade wishes me to care for the house while you two are… away."

Robin frowned, and put a hand on Wintergreen's shoulder. He didn't get attached to people very easily, but if Slade hurt Robin too bad, or if he was roughed up from a fight, Wintergreen would always be there to heal him and comfort him if he needed it. He would miss him. "I'll see you soon, then."

Wintergreen bowed, but said nothing. As the doors shut behind Robin and Slade, the young teenage boy couldn't help but to feel as though this would be the last time he would see the old man. Shaking his head to clear these feelings, he followed Slade to the car. Excitement was taking over the dread that something bad would happen. He was going to Gotham! And Gotham would never know what hit it.

* * *

**Very short chapter, I know, but I needed an opening prologue for you guys. I already have the whole plotline written down *three cheers for me!* and I think I did my homework properly for this. Any reviews will award you a virtual cookie! Plus your penname will be written down. I'll try answering any questions you guys have on the bottom of each chapter. So hopefully you liked this. One more thing: **

**Villains that will appear in this story: Slade, Black Mask, Joker, Riddler, Poison Ivy, Scarecrow, Killer Frost, H.I.V.E. Five and Cinderblock.**

**Heroes that will appear in this story: Batman, Speedy, Green Arrow (mentioned)**

**Robin is more or less an in-between villain/hero in this story, so I'm not listing him as anything. Alfred and Wintergreen make appearances as well.**


	2. Black Mask

**Big thanks to** krikanalo, Livie201**, and** toolazytoobored** for reviewing the last chapter. Virtual cookies for you all!**

* * *

"Look around Robin, observe," Slade held out a hand, as though presenting Gotham City to Robin. Robin's eyes were wide behind his domino mask, and a smirk was working its way onto his face. It was dark, dingy, and altogether unexciting – but for Robin, this was a treat. "You see Robin," said Slade as they walked together, both shooting disgusted looks at the two homeless people fighting over a meal by their feet, "there are the filth," he then nodded his head towards a thug, who was attempting to steal a car, "the low criminals – and in Arkham there are the high criminals." Robin nodded his head in understanding and he shot a glare at the low-life thug. The only criminals worth their time were the ones in Arkham Asylum. He wondered if they'd get to visit there, he'd love to see all of the famous criminals.

"So, why are we here?" asked Robin after a while, kicking a rock out of his path on the sidewalk. Slade didn't answer, but Robin was used to this. Slade would eventually tell Robin why they were here, he just needed to be patient. He'd learned that it's always best to be patient with Slade. He'd end up getting an answer out of his master sooner or later. Impatience with Slade either got him nowhere or a visit to Wintergreen sporting a rather nasty bruise.

They continued to walk in silence, Robin observing everything around him. He began to wonder why Batman – why anybody – would try to protect a city such as this. Robin almost rolled his eyes. _Superheroes. _

"You look lost in thought," said Slade, and Robin shrugged. "Just wondering why anybody in their right minds would try to protect a city like this."

"Who said the Batman is in his right mind?" asked Slade rather slyly, and Robin chuckled. He probably _was _crazy. He did dress up as a giant bat after all. Crazy people did that. Dick Grayson went under the name Robin, but you didn't see _him _wearing a bird costume. No. Batman was definitely crazy. "You look happy," Slade said, breaking Robin from his thoughts. "It isn't a good look for you."

Robin didn't say anything to that. He wasn't sure whether to be ashamed or not. Slade had found him when he was eight, and took him in after his parents' death. He wasn't a father figure, far from it, but he was all Robin knew since… that night… he didn't remember too much of it, but what he did remember wasn't pleasant.

_Dick was curled up in a ball, his body racked with sobs, ignoring the people shouting his name. His parents were dead. _Dead! _Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing. He couldn't help but to remember their faces right before they fell. The way his mom had looked at him, had whispered his name, the fear in her eyes speaking more than words ever could. She knew that they were going to die, and that was the worst. A terrible scream. He wasn't sure who had made it – his parents or him. It took only seconds for them to hit the ground, but for Dick it was a lifetime. He watched as their slender bodies fell down… down… he couldn't look away, even when their bodies smacked the hard ground. _

_There were screams from the crowd, and a loud wailing coming from the circus tent. He knew he should have gone to his parents' side, but he couldn't bear to see their bodies. He had fallen to his knees, unable to comprehend what had happened. His cheeks were stained with tears, and his eyes were burning. He felt hollow inside, like he had died instead of his parents. Never before had he wanted to die, but he would gladly do it if it meant he could bring his parents back. He couldn't feel his heart beating, and for a moment he wondered if it had stopped. He didn't care. He wanted it to stop. He couldn't live without his parents. He kept replaying his parents' faces right before they fell. He was numb to the world, he didn't _want _to live in this world anymore. He wanted to die. Die and forget about this pain. He didn't feel the hand that rested itself on his shoulder, but he managed to look up. He wondered why there was a random blur standing next to him, when he realized that tears were covering his vision. He blinked his eyes, managing to catch a glimpse of the person. He was handsome, and there was a type of horror and sadness in his eyes that Dick couldn't comprehend. This man didn't know his parents. _He _didn't watch them die in front of him. _He _shouldn't be looking at Dick with understanding eyes. _He knew nothing!

_He had ripped himself from the man's grip, whoever he was, and raced away. He heard the man calling after him, and for a split second wondered how he knew Dick's name, but it was quickly replaced by the urge to run. To run and never look back. Maybe if he ran far enough, his parents would be alive. Maybe if he ran fast enough, the pain wouldn't hurt as much. And that was how he had been found by Slade. Curled up under a tree, crying his eyes out. Slade didn't have his mask on – he had white hair slicked back in a ponytail, and an eyepatch. Slade hadn't said anything, just told him his name. Dick hadn't responded, he didn't care about what this man's name was. His parents were dead, and that was the only thing that mattered at the moment. Slade told him that crying wouldn't make the pain go away, and that Slade _knew _how to make it go away. All Dick had to do was go with him… and Dick, an emotional wreck of a small child, went with who could or could not have been his savior… _

Since then Slade had taken Robin on as an apprentice. He acted kind at first, even soothed Robin when he had nightmares about his parents, but as Robin grew older and more mature, Slade became colder and more firm with him. It was like he was a completely different man, and Robin often wondered if the nice Slade had been an act. He had stopped referring to Slade by his name. Instead he was forced to call him Master. Slade put him through brutal training, though he wasn't sure why. Now he knew, that Slade had wanted an apprentice all along. Richard "Dick" Grayson had been announced as dead (though no body was recovered) so Robin didn't use that name anymore. It rarely slipped past his lips – only Wintergreen was allowed to call him that and get away without a scratch. "So, where are we going?" Robin finally gathered the courage to ask, mentally flinching when Slade glared at him. Surprisingly, he answered Robin this time though. "We're visiting an old friend of mine who owes me a favor. He's allowing us to stay with him for a while until we… ah… _sort things out."_

"…okay." Whatever _that _means. He wanted to ask more questions, like who this person was, and why they were going there, and if he would be allowed to take his mask off, and if Slade would make him rob anything.

_No, me. _He automatically rebuked himself. _You're__ supposed to be the one who enjoys robbing things for the hell of it, Grayson, get a grip on yourself. _

Robin straightened himself up at this. He _did _enjoy stealing – he loved the thrill, the adrenaline that pumped through his body. He loved knowing that he could get caught, but always managed not to. This didn't make him cocky when he was committing a crime though – he didn't want the stupid pigs to be able to pin him down because his ego got in the way. No. He waited until he was home with his newest treasure to gloat and boast. Slade never seemed to mind this, though he did have to warn him not to let his ego get in the way at times. Robin had wanted to yell that Slade did it all the time, but who was he to judge? He was just a kid, a usable apprentice, it wasn't his place to talk to Slade disrespectfully.

This didn't mean he didn't have opinions – he just kept them to himself. He mentally groaned as they continued walking. He was starting to get bored. The city streets did nothing for him, in fact, he was pretty certain he'd passed the same house three times already, but he didn't say anything to Slade in fear of… well…

"We're here," said Slade finally, and Robin almost cried with joy. He turned, expecting to see something as extravagant as the mansion that they lived in, and winced at the sight of 'here'. Gotham City didn't seem to house rich people very much, but _damn. _The place looked like a warehouse revamped to appear like someone's home. _That's probably exactly what it is, _he realized. It was obviously old and not very well-kept. White paint was peeling off of the siding, which looked like layers of rust melted together. The windows were completely boarded up, and the door looked as though it would be very easy to kick down. Slade seemed to sense his apprentice's disgust at the sight, and hid a smirk. "I know it's not nice to look at," he said in a low voice, "but it's completely safe."

At first, Robin wondered exactly which part about this warehouse was 'safe'. Then he noticed the barbed wire fence surrounding the warehouse, and the almost unnoticeable camera's that looked as though they'd been installed for the purpose of spying. He shrugged, he would have preferred it to be more fortified, but he couldn't really complain. Especially not in front of his master. "Alright." _Alright? That's all you have to say, Grayson? _

_Yes it is! _

He had long ago separated Robin and Dick Grayson out in his head. He wasn't quite sure which was the voice of reason, but the two voices seemed to hate each other a lot. It didn't really strike Robin as odd that he was hearing voices in his head, even though it sounded like only crazy people heard voices in their heads. But this was different; he was hearing his _own _voices in his head. They just tended to argue with each other a lot.

…okay, so it did sound kind of crazy. But he just preferred to keep Robin and Dick separated, because their personalities conflicted too much, and he was pretty sure he'd be a drooling maniac if he allowed them to collide with each other. Robin was blood thirsty and didn't care about anyone or anything, while Dick was friendly and polite. For the most part anyway.

He trailed slightly behind Slade as they approached the warehouse. He had no idea who they were meeting, and he wasn't exactly thrilled to be there in the first place. _Let Slade deal with it. This is so beneath you. _

Even the ghost of Dick had to agree with that, _you deserve a lot better after all you've put up with. _

This was probably one of the only times his personalities seemed to agree with each other. He sighed; he should probably take up meditating or something, to try and keep the voices in his head from making random appearances. It didn't do well for his image as Robin _or _Dick Grayson. In fact, Robin really wasn't sure he even had his own voice to try and smooth out any argument that was going on up there.

Okay, he was definitely starting to sound crazy now. If he told that story to anybody, he'd without doubt be chucked in a loony bin. He almost chuckled at the thought of telling someone. _"Yeah so I have two voices in my head that hate each other and always argue and it's really distracting me from stealing and stuff, so if you wouldn't mind telling them to shut up because I can't that would be terrific." _He could practically see the person's scandalized face with these thoughts. He definitely wouldn't be telling anybody about the voices in his head.

Great. Now even _he _was referring to them as the voices in his head. Maybe him and Batman could get together for tea and talk about how crazy they were. The very thought was so amusing he accidentally let out a snort. Slade gave him a questioning look, but he lowered his face so that Slade couldn't see the curve of his lip. _As if… _

Deciding to ignore his apprentice, Slade knocked on the warehouse door three times, but not before he told Dick: "During our duration here, you will refer to me as Master or Deathstroke."

_Um. Okay. Weird. But whatever. I refer to him as Master half the time anyway…_

There was complete silence, and for a moment Robin thought that maybe they had gotten the wrong place. _Please let us have gotten the wrong place…_

His hopeful thoughts were quickly trampled down when a rustling came from the door and it opened. He narrowed his eyes through his mask, trying to block out the offending light that greeted them. "Come on in," a husky voice said, and Robin felt a hand wrap around his arm, gripping him tightly and pulling him inside of the warehouse. He ripped his arm from the grip of… whoever… and glared at the man. "You could have just said _please,_" he spat out, rubbing his sore arm. The man ignored him, and Robin got a good look at him… or rather, what he was wearing.

"Black Mask," Slade said coolly, and Robin decided that the name was fitting. The man's face was completely covered by a black mask, formed with rather creepy skeletal features. Despite the fact that the mask was covering his whole face, the man's words weren't muffled as he spoke to Robin's master. "Deathstroke, I presume?"

"Correct. Meet my apprentice, Robin," he motioned for Robin to stand in front of him, and he reluctantly did so. He could _feel _the man's eyes boring holes in him even though he couldn't see anything behind the mask. He had to fight the urge to shiver… he didn't like this man very much. Then again, he didn't like a lot of people. Though he'd never really been creeped out by any before. This man accomplished something he didn't know _anyone _was capable of.

"Pleasure," said Black Mask finally, and Robin forced out a "Nice to meet you," through gritted teeth. Black Mask didn't seem offended in the least at Robin's less-than-welcome attitude, and Robin wasn't sure whether he should be happy or angry at that. "I guess it's time we got you situated then."

Robin narrowed his eyes beneath his mask, hating to think about what 'situated' would mean. It was obvious they'd be staying in this… forsaken warehouse… but that didn't mean he had to like it. In fact, he despised the very thought of it. _Why couldn't I have just stayed at Slade's house with Wintergreen? This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I thought of visiting Gotham. What happened to not associating with low-life's Slade? Just because he has a 'bad guy' name, doesn't make him automatically a decent bad guy! Hell, if it weren't for the mask I'd completely brush by him!_

Part of him knew he shouldn't be thinking bad things of his current host, but his pride was too injured at the thought of having to sink to this level during his stay in Gotham City. _Maybe if I'm lucky we'll visit Arkham… _

"Follow me," Black Mask said to Robin, who sighed and trailed after the man. He took a good look at his surroundings, becoming even gloomier at the mess which Black Mask obviously considered to be his 'home'. Black Mask halted so suddenly Robin almost crashed into him. "This will be your room while you're here, Robin." The only thing that Robin hated more than Black Mask addressing him by his name was the fact that he actually had a _room _in this dump.

"Thanks," he said in the most ungrateful voice he could manage. Somehow, Black Mask managed to ignore his tone, and pushed him until he was inside of the room. Robin sighed and looked around – it looked nothing like his house in the mansion, though he hadn't expected it to. He had no dresser, no desk, and no windows. He barely had space to put his duffle bag down, much less find a place to store his clothes. His gaze traveled over to the side of the room, where… _is that a cot!? _

It was better than sleeping on the floor, he supposed, but he despised the fact that he would have to go from sleeping in a comfortable bed to sleeping in… a _cot. _With _one blanket _hastily thrown on top of it. At least there was a pillow. Not to mention, the room was absolutely freezing. He turned to glare at the Black Mask, forgetting for an instant that the Black Mask wouldn't be able to see his angry expression through his domino mask. "Do you like it?"

Robin was about to answer truthfully, but then he saw the look in Slade's eye, which clearly stated: _'Say yes or you're in for a world of pain.'_

"It's sufficient," he finally managed to get out, and he could have _sworn _the Black Mask was smirking under his skeletal mask. He obviously knew that this was killing Robin, which was the worst part of it all. Slade knew it too, though Robin couldn't hold it against him since Slade also looked very unsatisfied with the living situation.

"Good, good. I thought you might have found it to your liking."

_Yeah. I'm sure you did. _

"It's late, you should probably get to… bed… Robin," said Slade, seeming to hesitate over the word 'bed'. He too had spotted the uncomfortable-looking cot, and obviously wasn't very pleased by it. Robin would bet a million stolen bucks that Slade was hoping he wouldn't have to sleep in a cot at that moment.

"I don't mind staying up!" Robin said quickly, flinching at the angry gaze Slade fixed on him. "_Now, _Robin!"

"Yes Master," Robin mumbled, stumbling over to the cot. He didn't bother taking off his costume or armor – if anything, it would make the cot more comfortable to sleep on. Hopefully.

"Goodnight," said Robin unnecessarily, because Slade and Black Mask had already started walking away. Robin sighed and laid down on the cot, already feeling the back-ache that was sure to come. _Hello restless sleep. Miss me? _


	3. Bruce Wayne

**Big thanks to **krikanalo, anon, kuromi123, jaytodd's **and **Aguna **for reviewing the last chapter! *hands you all virtual cookies***

* * *

"I think we should start with the security…"

Bruce sighed, wishing now more than ever he was home in his nice, comfortable bed. Instead, he was in an enclosed, cold office listening to another salesperson. He glanced down at his watch surreptitiously, and almost melted with relief. _Five more minutes. Keep hanging on for five more minutes. _

"…am I correct in this matter? Mister Wayne?"

Bruce gave his full attention to the salesperson in front of him, pretending that he'd been listening the entire time. "While I agree that there has been a shortage of security guards, I hardly think hiring more is the correct course of action. The ones we have are smart, experienced, and most importantly know their place and what is required of them." _What the hell does a salesperson care about Wayne Enterprises security anyway? Shit… is he even a salesperson? I'm so tired, I just want to sleep. Batman seriously has to stop staying out so late._

"That may be," the salesperson… _no, inspector! _He mentally smacked himself. _Inspector, not salesperson! Bruce what is with you today?... _agreed reluctantly, though he still had stuff to say on the matter, "but just because _you _trust the guards does not mean they are the best out there."

"Do you run this company, Mister Murray?" Bruce snipped, and the inspector backtracked. "Well, no, but –."

"Then please stop telling me how to run it. I am very pleased with the security I have now, and I'll be damned if anyone in this company disagrees with me."

"I don't see what that has to –."

"Mister Murray, I have tried being patient, but I have an appointment and arguing this case with me is pointless. I stand firm with my security, there will be no changes. I do not care how much money they cost, or if they are the best, they do their jobs. Do you expect me to go and tell them that they are all fired because they weren't trained in the 'right' police force?"

"Of course not, but -."

"I'm glad we've come to an agreement, then," said Bruce, standing. The other man did as well, looking very displeased at how downhill this meeting had gone. "It was nice meeting you." Out of courtesy, he held out a hand. Murray stared at it for a moment, before reluctantly shaking it. "Nice meeting you as well, Mister Wayne. I hope that someday you will reconsider -."

"I will reconsider nothing," Bruce assured him, watching as the man's face darkened. "Though I admire your determination to attempt to sway me on this matter. If you don't mind, I really must attend my other appointment." _With my bed. _

"Of course, I do not wish to keep you," said Murray, the annoyance still obvious on his face. "But –."

Bruce had shot out of the room before Murray could try another bid at getting Wayne Enterprises different security. He took out his phone and dialed the manor, the fresh air hitting his face as he left the uncomfortable and stuffy building. The phone hadn't even rung three times when it was answered and an elderly voice spoke on the other line. "Wayne residence."

"Alfred it's me," said Bruce, cutting straight to the chase, "I'm on my way home now. These people are trying to change my security _again. _I swear it's like they're _trying _to have someone steal from Wayne Enterprises."

Alfred sounded slightly amused, "I'm sure that is not their intention Master Bruce. I assume you'll be going straight to bed, or are you going to visit downstairs first?" they both knew that 'downstairs' translated to the 'batcave'. "No, I'm done with everything downstairs," Bruce answered, getting into his black Lamborghini Murciélago. It still amused Bruce to no end that Murciélago literally translated to 'bat' in Spanish, and though Alfred never showed it, Bruce knew it amused him as well. "Very well, good day?"

Bruce scoffed, "anything but. I'm on the road now, gotta go." He hung up before Alfred even said goodbye. Miles away in the Wayne Manor, Alfred sighed and put the phone back in its rightful place. _I swear that man, never let's anybody say goodbye to him. _Judging by his past, Alfred could see why Bruce hated people saying goodbye to him, but it got rather frustrating at times. Especially if you had more to say.

He glanced over at a dusty, old-looking broken clock. Its hands were set to 10:48, and Alfred sighed. Bruce had never let go of his parents' death – even to enter the Batcave. No child or adult should have to see the time of their parents' death every night as a reminder.

Bruce was different though. He handled death in a way that would make most peoples' heads spin. He was strong, he soldiered through, and Alfred had to admire him for it. _He _certainly wouldn't be able to stand seeing his parents' death every night and day, but somehow Bruce did it.

Bruce Wayne was a true anomaly, and Batman was even more complicated.

* * *

Robin winced at the excruciating pain coming from his back. He would like to say that he'd been in a fight when he acquired the aches that he had now, but unfortunately it was from sleeping in that damned cot. He yawned, not having the best night's sleep. He'd been tossing and turning (which was very uncomfortable due to the cot) and on top of that kept having nightmares. He couldn't remember them when he woke up, but he _did _recall a lot of running and the feeling of being chased in them.

"Robin, are you up yet?"

"Yes, Master," said Robin sleepily, rubbing his eyes under his mask. He got off of the cot without argument, silently thankful that his mentor decided to wake him up this early, and walked into the storage room. Or at least he assumed it was the storage room; it was decorated to look like a living room slash research room. Slade and Black Mask were both waiting for him with tension in the air, and Robin wondered what had happened before he arrived there. Slade had his arms crossed and kept darting his eye over to glare at Black Mask. Black Mask, on the other hand, had his back turned to Slade and was instead staring at a newspaper clipping. Robin decided that tangling with an angry Slade wasn't the best way to start off the day, so he walked over to Black Mask instead. "Anything good?"

Robin could swear that Black Mask was smirking. "Very good news, little bird," he quickly backtracked at the look on Robin's face. "I mean Robin."

"What kind of news?" Robin finally ground out, and Black Mask returned back to the newspaper clipping. Instead of answering, he shoved the clipping in Robin's hand. Raising an eyebrow, Robin looked at the picture on the cover. "Who's Bruce Wayne?"

"Who's Bruce Wayne?" Black Mask sounded completely shocked, and Robin had the feeling he'd just said something incredibly stupid.

"Forgive my apprentice," cut in Slade smoothly, "he's new to Gotham."

"…whatever you say, Deathstroke," said Black Mask, though he still sounded slightly scandalized. "Bruce Wayne is fraud and a hypocrite," he said passionately, and the hate was evident in his voice. "He believes he's doing good for the people of Gotham, the rats that they are!"

"…how?"

"Oh he throws these balls and banquets, collecting money for different charities. I've known him since we were children, and he is a lying –" Slade cut him off before Black Mask could continue his rant. "We have more pressing problems then a petty squabble you have with an old friend."

"He's not a friend!" Black Mask hissed, "and I want him dead!"

"You'll get your wish as soon as we kill the Batman," Slade said in an off-hand voice, and Robin felt his jaw drop. "We're going to kill Batman?"

"Is there a problem with that?" Black Mask growled, taking Robin aback with the absolute fury in his voice.

"No it's just… there are only three of us, and no offence, but Batman has put a lot more danger…uh… nevermind," he said quickly as both Black Mask and Slade turned to glare at him.

"However rude the comment," Slade said, shooting a nasty glare at Robin, "my apprentice, you do have a point, which is why I have some jobs for you."

Robin perked his ears up. 'Jobs' always meant one thing – robbing or worse. "What do you want me to do?"

"You are going to gain Batman's attention."

_I'm going to what now? _

"How do you expect me to gain his attention?" asked Robin, trying to hide his confusion. The thought of Batman targeting him was absurd. He had too many other criminals to worry about.

"We'll start with little things first," Slade said, and Black Mask made a sound of annoyance. It was obvious that he didn't approve of starting with 'little things'. Slade shot the man a dirty look and turned back to Robin. "All we need you to do is draw Batman out, then we'll kill him."

"No!" Robin shouted, taking even himself aback. There was absolute silence, in which Robin seriously regretted talking back to Slade.

"No?" whispered his master dangerously, but Robin wasn't swayed. He'd be damned if they gave him 'little jobs' while they went out and killed Batman. "I want to be the one to kill Batman."

Black Mask laughed loudly, "Kid, you're no match for Batman. I, on the other hand –."

"Probably haven't had as much training as me!" Robin cut him off, "I want to kill him. I can _do _this!" he insisted. Black Mask took a few menacing steps forward, but Robin stood his ground. "Listen kid, I've been waiting for this moment since I was just a little older than you –."

"Yeah, and it doesn't look like you got very far, does it?" Robin narrowed his eyes, and Black Mask let out a hiss of fury. "You brat, you don't even know what true hatred is! You're staring it in the face!"

"No," Robin growled, "I'm staring at a masked man in the face who just wants attention by killing Batman. _I _want to be the one to kill him, I'm ready!"

"Tough luck, deal with it gypsy."

"You son of a –."

Slade cut Robin off before he could complete the sentence, which was probably a good thing since the stance Black Mask was in clearly stated that he wanted to kill the boy in front of him. Robin was still fuming, though he definitely wondered how Black Mask knew about his past. He glanced at Slade and mentally sighed; of course Slade would have told him. Without Robin's permission. Slade was in control of everything.

"Perhaps we're handling this the wrong way. Robin, Black Mask, change of plan. I want to see how well my apprentice can face off against Batman –" Robin gave Black Mask a smug look, "without killing him. This is the perfect opportunity to find his weaknesses and flaws. I think it would be prudent to see Robin's fighting skills in action as well. Is this agreeable?"

Robin and Black Mask shared a look before turning back to Slade. "Of course, Master," said Robin, speaking for both of them. Black Mask turned his head away; obviously he wasn't pleased with Slade's decision, but it was the logical move, and he wasn't one to argue with logic.

Well, at least not when it suited him.

"So… what do you need me to do?" asked Robin, already feeling the adrenaline pumping in him.

"Nothing for now," said Slade dismissively, and Robin had to fight the urge to frown as Slade started pacing. "We need a plan, a _good _plan."

"Why don't we just dump the kid in front of Batman? See what he can do?" Robin narrowed his eyes at Black Mask's suggestion, struggling not to throttle the masked man. _How _could Slade be friends with this guy? He mentally snorted. 'Friends' and 'Slade' didn't go well together in a sentence. Then again, neither did 'friends' and 'Robin'…

"No, no," said Slade decisively. "That's foolish. I need help from villains who have faced Batman's full wrath before," Black Mask opened his mouth to object, but Slade continued on as though Robin and Black Mask weren't even in the room. "I need to visit Arkham Asylum."

Robin raised an eyebrow, impressed. Black Mask, on the other hand, was glaring. "What are you planning on doing, walking over and asking the guards nicely if you can go for a nice visit?"

Slade shot him a scathing look. "Of course not, Mask. I've got a better idea."

They all leaned in as Slade started whispering his plan.

* * *

**Next chapter: Arkham Asylum. Time to meet the baddies. (Sorry Black Mask)**


End file.
